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“Mph. We better go inside. We wouldn’t want to create a scandal,” I remarked.
Cosma did not need any further encouragement. She reached behind her and slid the door open, falling backward and leading me in through the tight hallway until we reached the cramped bed and she fell backward, stretching out and watching me curiously, a devilish glint in her eyes.
“We can’t rest yet. I’ve just come from a harrowing battle, and I’m afraid I’m quite a mess. In fact, I seem to have lost a limb. But I don’t suppose a pretty lady like yourself would mind helping me undress and get cleaned up, would you?”
Cosma rolled her eyes at me, but eagerly sat up and came to me.
“If that is what my hero needs, I suppose I can handle that.”
With careful movements, she lifted my shirt off over my head, gingerly working around the bared stump of my arm. She tossed it into the corner with a wrinkled nose and left me standing there to go start the shower before returning. Then, she lowered herself to her knees, and I watched as she traced lines up my thighs and her fingertips played across the bulge in my pants until they reached the zipper.
As she freed my straining cock, she looked up at me through thick lashes, filling me with a strong desire to forget about the shower altogether. But as her hand wrapped around my shaft and began slowly stroking, I reached down and brought her back to her feet.
“My turn.”
She waited patiently as I wrestled with her top one-handed. She didn’t rush me or try to help without my asking, and for that I was grateful. She understood me like no one else ever had. And when I finally had her bare breasts in front of me, she pursed her lips and groaned when I palmed one of them, examining the way my fingertips left tiny red splotches against her pale flesh and the way her nipples hardened under my touch.
She stepped out of her discarded pants and laced her fingers through mine, drawing me after her into the steamy showering room.
My shaft was rock hard by the time she had finished lathering soap over my chest and down my arms. She worked methodically, planting kisses along my chest and back as she moved. Occasionally her free hand dipped down and brushed lightly across my cock, making it jump eagerly in response and I leaned back against the cool wall of the shower to steady myself.
Finally, she lowered herself in front of me, her breath whispering against my flesh in the tight space. Her hands coated with soap, she ran them over my balls and ran them along my shaft, squeezing and rotating. She was gentle at first, perhaps under the guise of washing me, but when I looked down again, she had discarded the cloth and soap altogether. Now, her hands worked in tandem, pumping up and down my length and massaging the sensitive sac between my legs until I had to fight to keep from spurting my seed all over her chest and face right there.
I was just fighting this very enticing thought when a new sensation sent a buzz through me, and I realized her mouth was wrapped tightly around my cockhead. Her cheeks hollowed as she applied suction, fluttering those long lashes as her tongue laved over and around me, drawing out the first drops of my cum.
“Cosma, you’re going to make me…”
“Come for me, Malik. Let me taste you.”
My words cut off in another deep groan as her lips closed over my shaft again. Desperate for something to hold on to, I placed my hand at the back of her head, falling into rhythm with her. My hips pumped against her movements and I could feel my cock pressing all the way into the back of her throat until it coated me with her saliva and her hands glided smoothly over me where her lips were only a second before.
Her second hand left my sac and wrapped around my thighs to my ass. I felt the sharp sensation of her nails clawing into my flesh, pulling my hips toward her until my cock was buried so deep in her throat I thought she might suffocate, but then I was falling over the edge. She sharpness of her nails squeezing my muscles and the flat strokes of her tongue along the underside of my shaft were enough to drive a man to madness.
Spurt after spurt of hot liquid poured from my cock, and I watched enthralled as her throat worked, taking every drop. When I was finally finished, she drew back, adding two quick strokes with her tongue just for good measure before smiling up at me.
“Now, where was I?” She asked, picking up the soap again and giggling.
“You better hurry before my knees give out,” I answered. “That was amazing.”
“Consider it a welcome home gift.”
“You mean you’ll do that every time I leave?” I asked, getting ideas already.
She gave me a stern look. “No. Not if you go off and do something stupid again. I reserved those kinds of gifts for heroes that tell their partners what they’re planning.”
I chuckled, enjoying the way she finished washing me and glad to have her sharp wit back in my life.
When she was done, she turned off the shower and led me back to the bed, toweling me off.
“Now,” she said with the same stern voice, “I believe you owe me an apology.”
“For?”
“For leaving without telling me. For putting yourself in danger. For making me think you had died!”
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest defiantly.
“Okay, okay. I get it. But I’d love to make it up to you.”
